


Tummy

by Baylor



Series: Birthright [22]
Category: The Faculty (1998)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship/Love, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Minnesota
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baylor/pseuds/Baylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zeke and Casey, at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tummy

"Come on, Casey, don’t you want to eat some of this?” Zeke wheedled.

Casey, face-down on the couch with his arms wrapped around a pillow, answered without bothering to lift his face from the cushions. “I told you, I don’t feel good.”

Zeke sighed and set the bowl of spaghetti back down on the kitchen counter. Casey had been moping around and making slight rumblings about not feeling well all evening, and Zeke was torn between exasperation and concern. He half-thought there wasn’t anything wrong with Casey at all, but that this display was the direct result of Zeke refusing to take him to run errands in town that morning, and then spending the afternoon cleaning up instead of paying attention to Casey.

“Do you really not feel good, Casey?” he asked. A plaintive “Yessss,” answered him.

Zeke crossed the trailer and leaned over Casey, rubbing his back. “What doesn’t feel good?” he asked. “C’mere, turn over, let me look at you.”

“My stomach hurts,” Casey whined, but he let Zeke turn him over without complaint. 

“Hurts how?” Zeke asked. sitting on the edge of the couch and feeling Casey’s forehead. His face was a little warm, but he’d had it buried in the couch cushions, so that could explain it. He lifted the edge of Casey’s long-sleeved T-shirt and tenderly touched his belly.

“It just hurts,” Casey said. “I don’t want to eat anything.”

“All right,” Zeke said softly. He still wasn’t sure this wasn’t a put-on -- Casey was not above faking sick to get some attention. He had a tricky stomach, though, and being upset with Zeke for ignoring him was as likely to give Casey a genuine stomachache as anything else. Zeke rubbed Casey’s belly gently and Casey made a small grumbling noise.

“Does that hurt?” Zeke asked, and Casey shook his head.

“Does that help?” Zeke asked, and Casey nodded, so Zeke sat and rubbed while Casey’s eyes drooped shut. He made further noises of contentment, eventually followed by a little stretch. If he’d been a cat, Zeke thought, he would have started purring. He made a whining noise of protest when Zeke moved his hand away.

“Don’t, that makes it feel better,” Casey said.

“All right, all right,” Zeke said. “Just let me sit down properly.” He lifted Casey’s head so he could sit in that corner of the couch while Casey sprawled half over him. Casey squirmed around a bit until he was comfortable, and then Zeke could reach down and resume belly-rubbing. 

After 20 minutes, Casey was heavy and warm and limp against him, still making an occasional humming noise of pleasure, and Zeke was 100 percent certain that there wasn’t a thing wrong with Casey. He pinched Casey’s belly (which persisted in having a tiny bit of chub, no matter how thin the rest of Casey was) gently and shifted his legs.

“Whaaaattt?” Casey said.

“You know what, buddy?” Zeke answered.

“No,” Casey said.

“I’m thinking maybe your stomach didn’t hurt so much after all,” Zeke said, and pinched Casey again. “I’m thinking maybe you were just feeling a little out of sorts because I didn’t spend any time with you today, and I made you stay here alone this morning for an hour.”

“Two hours,” Casey said.

“Two hours,” Zeke repeated. “You’re right, that’s pretty inexcusable on my part. I really should be doing a better job.”

Moving quickly, he rolled Casey off his lap, and while Casey was still trying to figure out what had just happened, he pushed him onto his back and held him there, straddling him on the couch.

“You wouldn’t ever play sick just to get some attention from me, would you, Casey?” Zeke asked. 

Casey looked up at him with wide, startled blue eyes. “No,” he said. “That would be mean.” Then he twisted quickly in Zeke’s grasp, nearly succeeding in slithering off the couch and away to freedom.

Nearly. “I don’t think so,” Zeke said triumphantly. “I can’t believe you had me so worried I left my dinner there on the counter getting cold. Next time I’m just going to go ahead and eat and leave you to live or die all on your own.”

“You would not,” Casey said, still trying to squirm away. He was smiling now, thrilled to be the sole focus of Zeke’s attention.

“I bet I would,” Zeke said, using his greater body weight to maintain his hold on Casey. “And I’d make lots of noise about how good my dinner was. ‘Mmmm, this is great,’ while you’re over here dying on the couch.”

Casey started to giggle. “You’re such a liar,” he said. 

“I’m such a liar!” Zeke said. “That’s rich, coming from Mr. My-Stomach-Hurts. I’ll make your stomach hurt,” and he reached down and hit the ticklish spot he knew well was right under Casey’s ribs.

Casey shrieked and kicked his legs. “No, Zeke, no! Don’t tickle me!” he said between peals of laughter.

Zeke had stopped after the first little tickle, but Casey continued to giggle with enthusiasm, so he reached down and gave Casey one more tickle. Casey shrieked again and twisted his body vigorously, and when he managed to slide off the edge of the couch, Zeke didn’t stop him. He crouched back on his heels and watched Casey lying on the floor, giggling happily while curling up to protect himself from further attacks.

Once he had quieted, Zeke said, “Casey, will you sit down and eat dinner with me if I heat it back up?”

“Yes,” Casey said, one more little giggle bursting out of him. 

“Good,” Zeke said. “I’d like that. Then how about we watch some t.v. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Casey said. As Zeke stepped over him, he reach up with a foot and kicked gently at Zeke’s calf.

“Thanks, Zeke,” he said.

“No problem, buddy,” Zeke answered, and went to fix dinner.


End file.
